


all about us

by clairelutra (exosolarmoon)



Series: I want the K [4]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Dancing in the Rain, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Kissing in the Rain, Pure fluff really, Romantic Friendship, Surprise Kissing, You Decide, all of these are, except the ones that are makeouts, or - Freeform, those aren't fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-01 16:14:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5212427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exosolarmoon/pseuds/clairelutra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>take my hand, i'll teach you to dance</i>
  <br/>
  <i>i'll spin you around, won't let you fall down</i>
</p>
<p>Adrien and Marinette are caught out in a rainstorm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	all about us

**Author's Note:**

> beta'd by the wonderful [mirthalia](http://mirthalia.tumblr.com/)!!
> 
> i had fun with this one :P

15: Kiss in the Rain

It was pure impulse. Pure impulse that had her shedding her shoes and socks and overshirt, leaving them on the bench of the little bus stand she and Adrien had found in their rush for cover. Pure impulse that had her rolling up her pant legs to Adrien’s confused questioning.

“What are you doing?” he wondered at her, braced against the corner of their shelter, and she could only giggle, intoxicated by the rush of the sky falling down around them.

She unwound her hair ties next, because wet ponytails were a murder to untangle, and fluffed her hair to get it to settle on her scalp now that it was free of its bindings.

“Mari-” She heard his breath catch and looked over her shoulder, curious.

He was staring at her — at her unbound hair, her thin, white T-shirt, her bare feet — wide-eyed and flushed.

_Oh_ , she thought, looking away and biting her lip, pleased, a partner flush heating her cheeks and neck.

A crack of thunder reminded her of her original purpose, and she removed her wallet and phone, stuffing them under the tiny pile of her discarded clothing.

Valuables stored, she turned and walked up to the edge of the dry part of their shelter, next to Adrien.

She met his eye and held it, grinning at his bafflement, as she turned around and walked backwards into the downpour.

The water hit her hard, sharp and cold, nature’s absolution for their filthy city. Raindrops bypassed her hair, falling straight to her scalp and trickling down to her temples, her ears, her neck, and she glanced up at the sky, beaming for the simple joy of being alive for this, of being so privileged to stand in the midst of this cleansing, this redemption and resurrection.

The sky was as black as it had been for days now, threatening and threatening for so long she’d stopped taking it seriously and started taking risks.

She tripped backwards, stumbling over her own two feet as she twirled, dancing in the false twilight like a child. Laughing, admiring the shimmering lights of the window displays and streetlights, the fairytale quality they gave her polluted, ancient, living city, the magic in the glitter of false gold they paved over the streets.

She spun to a stop and took a running leap at a puddle that had been calling her name for far too long, and they met like television lovers, sweet embrace gracing the soles of her bare feet and giving way to the jarring cacophonic crash that ends it all, sprays of dirty water catching the fairy-light landscape in a hundred different kaleidoscopic ways, a catastrophe in technicolor.

She slowed to a halt, the analogy of lovers reminding her of Adrien, and of the fact that he wasn’t out here with her.

He was watching her, she saw when she looked. Watching her with a lonely kind of yearning, the sort of yearning sported by children denied what was rightly theirs: companionship and imagination and play. And she could see the boy he used to be — the boy he was still, at times, the one that had been told ‘no’ once, twice, a hundred times too many — and it made her sick to her stomach.

She held her arms out, an open invitation that she resented needing to give, hating that he needed to be told that he could join her in childish abandon.

She could see his surprise from where she stood, and she crooked her fingers, smiling a little more, a little added incentive, a little bit of _‘because I want you here.’_

Her partner took a slow step out into the rain, then flinched violently and jumped back, glaring at the black sky, and she laughed, laughed and laughed and _laughed_ , because of course that would happen, of course he would forget that the rain was wet, _of course_.

Her silly, unlucky kitty.

By the time she looked up, he’d switched his glare to her.

She almost, _almost_ rubbed the back of her head in sheepish apology, but thought better of it at the last second. Instead, she clasped her hands behind her back and ducked like a bird, met his eye, and stuck her tongue out in challenge.

_‘Mad? Come and get me.’_

His glare broke on a startled laugh that she could hear even over the white noise of the rain. Tripping out to join her, he took her up on her challenge, braving the water.

She was proud of him.

He met her in a splash of the puddle she’d claimed as her own, and folded his arms, bent down to her so they were almost nose to nose. Kaleidoscopic water droplets clung to the tips of his hair, and his eyes shone like apples, like freshly-cut grass, like sea- polished glass, like things natural and alive and organic, her fairytale prince and her incoming catastrophe in technicolor.

“Enjoying my pain, my lady?”

“Me?” she asked, grinning. “ _Never_.”

And she splashed him with her puddle.

His reaction did not disappoint. He spluttered wildly, giving her the most betrayed look she’d ever seen in her life.

She smirked.

His eyes narrowed.

She decided to make a run for it while she still could.

He chased her down, following up on her declaration of watery war with a happy yell.

They crashed through dirty puddles and tried not to slip on the slick sidewalks, dancing about the bus shelter, two teenagers playing like _teenagers_ and having the time of their lives in the sheeting rain.

She was wheezing by the end of it, choking on her laughter, gasping for air and soaked to the bone, numb and cold and warm and happy. Happy to spend her day like this, here, with him, watching the shadows fade from his eyes and the tension roll off his back.

She stumbled to a stop, giggling, turning to call a halt to this game of theirs, and he caught her wrist.

She only had time to blink the rain off her eyelashes before his mouth was on hers, pressing chill and chaste and grateful and _electric_.

She gasped, arching into it, rising up on her toes to get closer, closer, _closer_ – and he broke away.

She whined and chased him, _no wait I wasn’t **done**_ , and he laughed.

“Come on,” he said, breathy and soft. “We’re soaked. Let’s go home.”

She pouted, denied satisfaction, and followed him back to her belongings.

She decided she’d just have to steal a goodnight kiss in return.


End file.
